Adulthood
by Tammy Sakamoto
Summary: The drabbling dabbles in the diary of a university student by the Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. Turning eighteen is terrible. You will likely find something in these daily entries that will somehow relate to your life. From crushes to love to sexuality to cash to school to family to religion to angst to recklessness to masturbation...its all here for you to enjoy. AU and OOC


**This is the first thing I've written since I've turned eighteen. My life sucks right now so like what the great and famous writers have done before me, I'm going to pour my feelings onto paper. Erm…I mean into Fanfiction. **

**Just to mention this, fanfiction got me a volunteer position. Awesome right?**

**Please review. **

**Tammy Sakamoto**

**I do not own Bleach. **

**This fanfic is a DRABBLE. **

Adulthood

WARNING: the follow things you are about to read are real life encounters of 'Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez'.

The blessed age of eighteen.

The time when we are considered legal.

The time when we don't ever need our parents to sign above the cursed Parent's -signature-if -individual-is-under-the-age-of-18 line.

The day when we are able to do whatever the heck we what to do without anyone bitching over it.

The day we first step into the world of adults.

Fuck eighteen.

Just three days after my eighteenth birthday and already I've experienced a myriad of problems that're large enough for me to entertain the idea of jumping off some nearby cliff.

Gigantic superstorm heading steadily towards my city

Midterms

Unemployment

Applications to transfer out of this stupid institute I call my college

Freshman fifteen

Money issues

Dipshit stepfather

Speaking of the son-of –a-bitch, the fugly bitch just popped his butt face into the apartment we call home. I don't even need to look at his face or smell his breath to know that he's drunk.

When you live with a person long enough, you jut need to hear five seconds of their voice to know they weren't sober.

Oh, now he's arguing with mom about money.

Fuck my life.

We spend eighteen years of my life saving up money in a fund so that I won't need to worry about college tuition. And then what happens? Just three days after my eighteenth birthday and literally four months after we get back the deposit from the agency we literally throw it all into buying a stupid old coffee store.

Oh, you motherfucker dickhead of a stepdad, get the hell out of my home and go crawl into some box and rot.

Whenever I hear Aizen's voice I want to just do something reckless that could put me in prison for a good few years.

But I can't. I'm too scared. I've never had the guts to do anything. I've never even had the guts to go to the university of my choice, too threatened by the fact that my mother would never look at me as her son later.

Plus, she was the one who was paying for my education, so there really wasn't any room for me to make my argument.

But now that I'm re-evaluating the situation again, I consider the fact that my freshman year tuition was paid with my scholarship money, and since we don't really have anything left for the next four to eight years, with the cost of school continuing to rise, does she really have any say on where I want to go and what I want to do?

I don't think she does…

Great. Now I need to go find a job so I can save up money. I have to apply to this school as a transfer student with my own cash, when I could have easily gotten into the program with my senior high school marks if my mother hadn't forced this world-famous institution on me. I fill out my resume for the McDonald's five minutes away from my apartment.

Mom just knocked on the door of my room. Told me to take a bite out of a piece of avocado.

The avocado was so bitter, just like my life right now.

The more I think about how the avocado is going through my digestive system, the more I can see my life as this piece of avocado:

It transforms into this shit form in our asses that refuses to be expelled, and continues to give me hell as I ponder the golden question that is WHEN THE HELL WILL THIS NIGHTMARE END?!

Hm…I have to say that was quite poetic.

I hate being eighteen.

LOVE,

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez


End file.
